Small Things
by Boer
Summary: Some ramblings from the Xander-mind.


Title: Small Things  
Series: No (Rose, quit your sniggering)  
Author: Boer  
Pairing: Spike/Xander  
Rating: PG-13  
Feedback: Do you really expect me to say no? Sorry to disappoint you, then. Of course I would love to have feedback. Any kind.   
Distribution: List archives. If anybody else wants it, please let me know (not as if I would refuse, but still… it would be nice to know)  
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. All is owned by Joss and company, much to my chagrin. I love them more, I'm sure.  
Summary: Some ramblings from the Xander-mind.   
Spoilers: Yeah, right. None of those for me, thanks.   
Notes the first: A Xander POV story. I don't think it's too confusing. If it is, feel free to yell at me.   
Notes the second: I'm so new to this, it isn't even funny. And it's all Rose and Katy's fault. I didn't want to do this! Honestly! (You two can stop laughing at any time now, you know.)  
Dedication: To Rose and Katy, for -ahem- encouraging me. And of course the beta-job they did. Otherwise, there would still be some pretty funky mistakes in here. Think you've corrupted me enough for today, dears? And also to Tessa, for not looking at me strangely when I told her Spike should be with Xander, not Buffy.  
  
Well, then, let's get to it!  
  
~~~~~  
Small things  
~~~~~  
  
  
At times, I ask myself what I love most about him.  
  
I love his hands, the way they move so gracefully.  
  
The pale skin, slender wrists and elegant fingers, always moving. Sometimes those hands are stuffed into his pockets, but they never stay there for long. All too soon he is lighting another cigarette, and I suspect that, mostly, it is to give those hands something to do.   
  
He can't seem to keep his hands still. They are often moving when he's talking, as if to accentuate the importance of his words.   
  
Even when we are in bed, sleeping, those hands seem to possess some kind of energy. His body might lie absolutely still, but his hands never do.   
  
Those slender fingers move all the time, stroking my skin. It seems as if he is unconsciously looking for me, seeking reassurance that I have not left him.  
  
Not that I will leave him, but he needs it anyway.  
  
Then I think about his eyes, the way they sparkle when he's laughing. Clear blue, and so beautiful.   
  
When he's excited they darken, and become a deep, midnight blue. Occasionally there are hints of gold shining through. He told me once that it was a sign of deep emotion.  
  
Dull blue is the colour they get when he's sad, or reliving unhappy memories. I haven't noticed this colour in some time now, so I guess he is happier now. Happy with me.  
  
In game face they are deep gold, sometimes lined in red. A wonderful colour, I think. Once, we had a talk about those golden eyes, the girls and I. Buffy remarked that the gold hid all the emotions, and she couldn't read them. She said it made it easier to stake them.   
  
But his eyes... I can read the gold of his eyes. They're not emotionless, if you just know how to look. I do.  
  
Yes, I love his eyes, but what I love even more is his voice.  
  
That voice gets to me in ways no other voice ever has. Cordelia, Faith, Anya - their voices could never give me such a shiver down my spine as his does.   
  
Well, to be honest, Faith's can. But that's more out of fear of what she's going to do than anything else.  
  
His voice, though... Just listening to it can make my knees go weak. I really love it, in all its incarnations.  
  
When in public, it is always this rough, English accent, as if he grew up on the streets.   
  
But when we're alone the accent fades, a beautiful, cultured voice taking its place. He was raised as a gentleman, and there are still traces of that man behind the facade he shows to the world.   
  
I feel honoured that he trusts me enough to let the mask go in private.   
  
Sometimes, he reads to me. I tend to focus more on his voice than the words he is speaking, and I can get into a kind of trance while listening.   
  
Of course, he noticed this. One time, he switched to reading the VCR manual halfway through. It took me almost ten minutes to notice, I am embarrassed to say.   
  
He wouldn't admit it, of course, but I think he was secretly pleased with the impact his voice has on me.   
  
And when extremely content, he purrs. The first time this happened, I was startled.   
  
I was sitting on the couch and he was lying across it, with his head on my thigh. We were watching some show, I can't remember which one, and I absentmindedly began stroking my fingers through his hair. Suddenly, there was this low, rumbling sound.   
  
At first, I thought it was some kind of engine, but I couldn't locate it. After looking around, I saw there was nothing that could make a sound like this in the apartment. Obviously, I hadn't looked at the vampire sprawled across the couch yet.  
  
Wanting to ask him what it could be I looked down, and the words stuck in my suddenly dry throat. Those blue eyes were closed, and there was such a look of bliss on his face that I couldn't speak.   
  
Then I noticed his chest. It was vibrating softly, and the rumbling seemed to come from him.   
  
When my fingers slowed, so did the sound. Not wanting to disturb him, I let my fingers card through his hair again.   
  
That was the moment I realized I loved him, you know. I mean, I had already sorta guessed it, but then I knew for sure.   
  
I really love him. And not just his hands, eyes or voice.  
  
All of him.  
  
I just hope it's mutual.  
  
  
~~~~~  
End  
~~~~~ 


End file.
